The Darkness

If someone had met me growing up, they would see how many changes I’ve gone through in various stages of my life. 

When I was small, I was a quiet child. Riding on the coattails of my older twin, I stuck to his side like a leech. It was he who brought me out of the house to play. It was he who led the adventures around our little garden, bringing back animals that we pleaded to our mother if we could keep - his more four-legged while mine of the feathered variety. It was he who was the louder, and I the quiet presence at his side. I had feared the world and its darkness. I so feared the shadows at night that I always had a candle at my bedside to chase away the monsters my mind had conjured.

When I was a little older, it was as if we switched places. It was now I who was the troublemaker. It was I who pushed for adventures in the garden, coming back with leaves in my hair and a bright grin on my face. It was I who collected scrapes, cuts, and bruises like trophies while my brother stood the quiet protector. Though broody was the better word for it, much to our mother’s consternation and my everlasting amusement. Yet I still feared the darkness, a fear that followed me from childhood. After all, you couldn’t protect yourself against something you couldn’t see.

When I... came back to myself after that fateful day, couldn’t recognize who I had become. I had no memory of that time, no physical scars marked what had happened. My brother, my twin, my soulmate was a stranger to me. I did not speak for a time because I had forgotten how to. I was older, though I had no recollection of time passing. It was as if I blinked and suddenly there was my twin — older, more jaded, with a hardness in his eyes that I wasn’t there to know the story behind. 

And if I am honest, I even feared him.

Yet I clung to him as he was the only thing I knew then. The only thing familiar to me. He’s my brother. He’ll protect me, I had thought desperately during the nights I screamed myself awake. I was that quiet, scared little boy once more. A parasite riding on my brother’s heels with a newfound fear of magic that I couldn’t explain. It took all of his efforts to calm me down enough for a cleric to take a look and heal me. I knew it hurt my brother seeing the state I was in. Once again I was that little boy that was scared of anything and everything outside our door. He was determined to get me back to who I had been before... that day. To that rambunctious tiefling who smiled when the world spat in his face and collected scrapes, cuts, and bruises like trophies. And he largely succeeded and even taught me how to play music. He was still better at it of course. 

I could never be truly back to who I was before. Too much had happened to me for that to be real. But by and large, I was back to that mischievous boy with a tireless grin and the energy and curiosity like that of a puppy. But if there was one change in me that surprised us, it was that darkness no longer frightened me. In fact, it was quite the opposite. 

I thrived in it.

It is strange to think now that I find comfort in the dark when I used to fear it. That I feel more comfortable hiding in the shadows and shrink against the light. Oh, I do my best to remember that there’s still good in the world. That even when I thrived in the darkness, there’s always the little light of hope that everything is going to be okay. That everything would be worth it in the end. I remember and hold on to that belief, keeping me sane and moving instead of disappearing into the shadows forever.

But some days... most days the darkness was my friend. For in the darkness, I can protect my family better and become the unseen monster in the shadows that I used to fear. In the dark, I can rest my eyes and find comfort in the arms of my lover without the prying gaze of many. Of the guild that holds me shackled and branded in servitude. In the dark, I can be broken and cry without the judging stares of my peers.

In the dark, I can shed the happy mask of the mischievous, energetic little brother, and sink into the tired face of a rogue whose hands were stained with blood to protect my family. To protect those verdant green eyes I called home.

In the dark, I can be that small child who used to wield imaginary swords made of sticks with a boy whose face is identical to mine.

In the dark, I can just be... Ross.